


Drunk Words, Sober Thoughts

by kaeorin



Series: Loki's Lullabies [175]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alcohol, Avenger Loki (Marvel), Avenger Reader (Marvel), Avengers Tower, Dancing, Drinking, F/M, Good Loki (Marvel), Insecurity, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Reader-Insert, Stark Tower
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-19 03:41:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29620044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaeorin/pseuds/kaeorin
Summary: When the Tower is caught up in cabin fever due to quarantine, it doesn’t take much at all to inspire Tony to put together a stay-at-home-club-night. One thing leads to another, and suddenly you’re seeing a side of Loki that you’ve never seen before.
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Reader
Series: Loki's Lullabies [175]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1678240
Comments: 17
Kudos: 197





	Drunk Words, Sober Thoughts

**Author's Note:**

> There’s some **drinking** in this one, so if that’s something you avoid, please avoid this one. Also, in case you couldn’t tell from the summary, this is a quarantine-fic. There’s no COVID inside the Tower, but it is still running rampant in the world outside. I guess I just kind of needed a reason for the Avengers to be going stir-crazy inside. I really and truly need to cut back and get back to the two-or-three page works I used to post. Most of this is more like a Stark Tower drabble than a lullaby, but there’s lots of Loki in the second half, I promise!

It was all your idea. Well, yours and Tony’s. New York was still locked down, and you were all more or less trapped in the Tower. Missions were rigorously vetted lately, which meant that they didn’t happen often. Couldn’t have Captain America or Thor the Mighty transmitting the deadly virus to other normal people, after all. Bad for PR. 

For the most part, things were alright. Everyone was held in the grips of cabin fever, sure, but what was an Avenger if not someone who was more than used to suffering in silence? The gym got even more use now than before as the super-soldiers and super-powered among you did their best to burn off their excess energy. But not everybody had coping mechanisms that were quite so healthy. Tony had buried himself in his lab for who knows how long, likely in hopes of making the days blur together enough that he could forget how long this was going on. Every once in a while, he’d resurface to show off some new invention. At first, they seemed genuinely helpful and important—he’d managed to churn out a lot of tech to help keep people safe during all of this—but as he got punchier, his work got...stranger. Whenever you could, you tried to pin him down: trap him at the table in the kitchen and ply him with food and water to make sure he wasn’t going to keel over. He refused to take extended breaks but he did, at least, allow you to fight to keep his Red-Bull-to-water ratio in check.

It was during one of those weird little meal times that you came up with the idea. You made some offhand comment about how he was going to drink himself to death down there, which set him off on a long, rambling lecture about how he never drinks when he’s working because it dulls the senses and makes him sleepy and that’s just a level of irresponsibility that is beyond even one Tony Stark, so _how dare you_. 

But you could tell from the gleam in his otherwise-bleary eyes that he wasn’t actually upset with you.

The conversation slipped into a wistful sort of discussion about the things that you both missed. Going outside without a world of worries heaped upon your shoulders. Interacting with strangers without wondering what kinds of germs they’d been exposed to. Drinking and dancing under the pulsing light in clubs. That one surprised you even as it fell from your lips. You weren’t typically a “clubbing” kind of person, but you’d tagged along with the team over and over again before all of this happened. It wasn’t really the clubs that you were longing for, but perhaps the carefree way you could interact in those clubs Before. Tony sat up a little straighter and looked at you with crazed eyes and called you a genius before flinging himself out of the room. 

It was a little worrisome, but he wasn’t heading back into the lab, so maybe you’d count that as a win.

The day went on as normal, for the most part. Everyone was spending a lot more time in their own suites, so the common areas tended to be quiet. Lonely. Early on, there had been a short-lived uptick in the number of “family bonding nights” as everyone sought out a little extra human interaction, but as time wore on and frustration mounted, those kind of slipped away. You missed your teammates, but you didn’t blame them for hiding themselves away, either. 

Sometimes you’d stumble across Loki sitting out in a common space. Secretly, you were always delighted to see him, but you wanted to keep quiet about that to keep from spooking him. You couldn’t help but feel like you’d been blessed any time he took the time to speak to you beyond absent-minded greetings. More than once, you’d fallen deep into a conversation with him and delighted in it, only to watch him pull away and don a far more neutral expression on the rare occasion that someone else joined the two of you. 

That mean voice in the back of your head, the one that’d been there since your adolescence, insisted that he was embarrassed to be seen speaking with you. That wasn’t uncommon when you were growing up, so you were used to it by now. But there was just something in the way he spoke to you that made it a little harder to accept that so-called fact. Sometimes there was a light in his eyes when he looked at you, and you’d never seen anything like it. That was the only thing that let you keep joining him in conversation time after time instead of slinking away and refusing to force your presence upon him. 

But the sitting room was empty this afternoon, so you went to your own room instead.

Several hours later, there was a knock on your door. Even before you got up, you could hear Wanda on the other side, singing some kind of cheerful tuneless song. When you opened the door, she all but flung herself at you with a beaming smile. Isolation was making everybody a little weird. You had to admit, though, that your touch-starved self did appreciate the way she put her hands on your shoulders and squeezed gently.

“We are going dancing!” she said with a little laugh. “I’m here to help you get ready. Where’s your makeup?”

You couldn’t stop the dry laugh that escaped, but she seemed undeterred. “I don’t know if you’ve been paying attention, Wan, but the world’s still burning out there.”

“Tony set it up. He told us to get ready and to look hot and meet him in the ballroom tonight. What do you feel like wearing?” She flitted away from you and went over to rummage through your closet. You had a few outfits that might fit the bill, but you weren’t exactly thrilled at the idea of trading your sweatpants for a tight skirt.

But her enthusiasm was catching. It often was. Like, it _always_ was, to the point that you were beginning to wonder how often she used her magic on you. But she’d yet to get you into any real trouble, and her heart seemed to be in the right place, so maybe you would choke down those suspicions for just a little while longer. 

It didn’t take long for the two of you to finish getting ready. The whole time, it felt rather silly to be putting so much effort into what was essentially just going to be hanging out with the same teammates as always, just probably with some obnoxious lighting and music, but the familiarity of the routine did feel nice. When she dragged you down to the elevators, and then out to the ballroom, you were almost excited.

There was loud music, of course, and the overhead lights had been dimmed in favor of some truly atrocious flashing colored lights, but Tony was there, and he greeted you with a soaring grin and a couple of shot glasses. “Good, right? Especially on such short notice? Drink up! We’ve got a serious lack of beautiful strangers here, but there’s music and there’s alcohol, so I expect everyone to have a fantastic time anyway!”

He seemed like maybe he’d done a little pre-gaming. 

But you dutifully took the proffered shot and tried not to wince at him before Wanda pulled you deeper into the room. It still felt pretty cavern-y without the swarming press of hundreds of bodies, but your friends were all there. Nat and Sam were dancing. Everyone else was mostly just standing around and chatting. Including…

“Loki!” Wanda exclaimed, and dragged you over to where he stood beside his brother. “I didn’t expect to see you here!”

He didn’t look nearly as excited as she did. His eyes flickered over your friend’s face, and then yours, and you had to swallow your disappointment when he looked away again just as quickly. “Thor promised to bring out the Asgardian mead if I came. I don’t know how he’s managed to keep it hidden from me all this time, but anything is better than the swill you lot drink.”

Ah, right. He was surrounded by the others. That warmer tone he used when it was just the two of you, that was private. That was only for you, at least as far as you could tell. He almost never spoke badly of Midgard when it was just the two of you. Here and there he’d even expressed begrudging admiration for some of the things and creatures that could be found here on Earth. But whenever there were others present, it was like he thought he had to maintain that icy shield of his. You kept your face as soft as you could, as understanding, but he refused to make eye contact with you. 

It was impossible to dwell on him, though. A fresh surge of excitement flooded through you when the song changed, and so you allowed Wanda to pull you out onto the dance floor. Dancing with her was like a balm. She grinned and giggled and spun you out and away from her, even when the music didn’t call for it, and it was so easy to laugh with her. It’d been a long time since you felt anything like this. There was a warmth growing inside you that had very little to do with the booze that your teammates kept pressing into your hands. Maybe that helped, though.

Over time, more and more people joined you on the dance floor. You made your way through everybody. You held each other and laughed and danced and enjoyed yourselves. It wasn’t much like dancing with gropey strangers in a real club—these people were your friends, and you trusted them with your life. And no one grabbed your ass, even though Clint rather graciously offered to. 

Each time you slipped back to the bar, where Tony had set up Dum-E as a sort of bartender, you came across Loki. You might have expected him to duck out once he’d gotten some of that mead, but he was still there, sitting sullenly at a stool. You struggled through your order—just a glass of water, please—and then maneuvered your way behind the bar to make it for yourself when that proved to be too much for the little bot and, all the while, you couldn’t keep yourself from stealing glances at the prince. 

Everyone else was distracted. Loki was still very much surrounded, of course, but maybe since no one was paying attention to him…? You grabbed your glass and a rag and made your way over to where he sat, then began to make a show of cleaning the bar in front of him. “Get you a refill, sir?” 

He looked up with some amount of surprise, but you couldn’t miss the way his eyes flashed when they landed on you. He hiccuped quietly and then looked away, but only so he could cover his mouth and murmur an unsteady apology. “Better not. I’ve had plenty already.”

He did sound different. Were you in the presence of a drunk Loki? A strange little thrill ran through you, but you did your best to tamp it down. He was unpredictable on the best of days—you could only imagine what he’d be like while drunk. Still, you placed your glass of water on the bar in front of him and then went to pour yourself another. When you came back, he’d wrapped his fingers around the glass and was just sort of...staring at it. 

“It’s water,” you offered with a tiny laugh. “When Midgardians get drunk, we get super-dehydrated and wake up feeling like hell. But I bet Asgardian bodies are probably superior enough that you don’t have to worry about that, do you?” 

Instead of answering right away, he kept his eyes fixed on the bar and brought the glass to his lips. You tried not to watch as he took a drink. His lips looked soft and pink—absolutely lovely, as always—and the way his throat moved as he swallowed? You were struck by the urge to press your glass to your face to try to cool yourself a little, but took a drink. 

“You’re always looking out for me,” he said slowly. “Not just me. Everybody. But also me. Why would you do that?” The sincerity in his voice broke your heart. You felt actual pain in your chest as you looked at him and realized that he was serious. Before you could respond, though, he continued: “I’m not an Avenger. You can’t trust me. No one can. And even when I spit foul, spoiled nonsense at you, you don’t let that turn you away. You drive me mad, you know that? I can’t tell if you’re foolish or noble. I’ve no idea what to make of you.”

This was a new side of him. Even when it was just the two of you alone, he spoke with such confidence. You ducked down a little to try to meet his gaze. His eyes were clouded, but he didn’t look away. “Hey. I trust you. I care about you. I guess you could call me a fool for that if you wanted to, but I don’t mind. I like you a lot, Loki. If you need me to get you some water once in a while to prove that, I can do that. Will you drink a little more? Please?”

Your cheeks were burning, but it was hard to be sure how much of that was because of the alcohol and how much was because you’d just told this man, to his face, that you liked him. If luck was on your side, maybe he wouldn’t remember. Maybe he wouldn’t remember any of this, but you desperately wanted to make him feel better anyway. He knocked his glass against yours in a clumsy ‘cheers’ gesture and drained it easily. 

Silence fell between you for a few moments, then, broken only by the thrumming bass in the song that filled the ballroom. You got the feeling that Loki was still caught up in a spiral of self-loathing. That shouldn’t have been as surprising as it was. You reached out to grab his hand without thinking about it, and then didn’t allow yourself to pull away once you had. 

“Hey, you need a distraction. It doesn’t do anyone any good to get drunk and sit around feeling sorry for themselves. Come dance with me? Just one song, or maybe two? If you can move your body, it might make you feel better.” 

He didn’t look at you for a long time, but, when he finally did, there was a kind of softness in his face that made your heart surge. He was thinking about it. You squeezed his hand, but then forced yourself to let go of it so you could get out from behind the bar and join him. You were terrified, in those few seconds, that he’d change his mind and flee, never to be seen again. But he was there, standing beside his stool, just...waiting for you. You took his hand again and pulled him out to the dance floor.

He was stiff at first. Awkward. It was hard not to let that bleed into your own movements, but you found a way. If you let him think that you felt as weird about this as he did, it felt like he’d be so much more likely to leave too early. So you made yourself go on touching him—nothing too forward, of course, just your hands on his shoulders or on his upper arms or, rarely, on his chest. The music was loud enough to let you slip inside. Slowly, you found a way to turn off your brain and simply move to the music. 

Loki did too.

His movements became a little smoother as time went on. He pressed a little closer to you and slipped his arms around your waist. It made your heart beat furiously in your chest, but you wouldn’t have traded it for anything. Was it wrong to like this? Were you taking advantage of him? You were a little bit buzzy, but certainly not as drunk as he was. Should you be doing this? Could you make yourself stop? Guiltily, you told yourself that maybe this could be okay, as long as it didn’t go any further. As though, even drunk off his ass, Loki would ever be interested in you like that.

He tried to meet your gaze, but you couldn’t do it. Surely he’d see what you were thinking. To escape those eyes, you turned your back to him and went on dancing. He splayed the fingers of one hand out across your belly to keep you close and rocked behind you. _Gyrated_. A wave of dizziness rushed through you, but of course that was only the alcohol. You focused on the music, on the lights, on the people around you and Loki, solid and warm behind you. He was a really good dancer, once he loosened up a little.

Without warning, he lowered his head to bring his mouth close to your ear. You faltered a little in your dancing, but did your best to cover that up. Thankfully, he didn’t give any signs of noticing. You heard him draw in a deep breath and then his voice came low and musical: “There is such grace in your movements. How have I never noticed that before?”

Even to your own ears, the giggle that escaped you sounded unsteady and a little too dreamy. _Lord, let him forget all of this_ , you prayed to yourself even as you reached down to press your hand against his. “You’re not a bad dancer yourself, starshine.” Something inside you was screaming for you to turn around, maybe twine your arms up around his neck and slow dance with him even though it was hideously inappropriate for the music. You didn’t.

“Starshine.” He repeated the nickname back to you, slowly and thoughtfully, as though turning it over and over in his mind. He was still holding you close. How long had you been craving something like this? Before today, you’d never spent much time thinking about touch-starvation, but his touch was making you feel things. God, if only you could just close your eyes and lose yourself in all of this. 

The two of you danced much longer than you might have expected. He didn’t take his hands off of you, and you didn’t dream of anything different. Here and there he’d make some low observation, and the way he whispered against your ear never stopped making you shiver. Was it your imagination or did he keep breathing in the scent of you?

After a long time, the music gradually began to slow. Some of your more human teammates were beginning to fade a bit. Maybe you were too. You noticed that you began to lean more and more heavily into Loki, but he supported you without a word. 

It was hard to say exactly when it happened, but things shifted. Your dance did, anyway. Loki was holding you securely in his arms and practically _waltzing_ with you along the dance floor. And still you were enjoying it. He gazed down at you with eyes that sparkled, and you knew you had to be a grinning mess as you looked up at him. At long last, he paused so that it was just the two of you standing in one another’s arms, just...looking at each other. He lifted his hand to tuck some of your hair behind your ear. Had anyone ever touched you so tenderly? You swallowed hard.

“I think…” At first his voice was stilted. Halting. Like maybe he wasn’t sure he wanted to be speaking the words aloud. But he squared his shoulders and went on: “I’m in love with you. You are a creature of pure heart, driven constantly by the need to look after others, and I would like to be the one you allow to look after you. I’d like to be the one to hold you. If it’s not too forward, I’d like to be the one to kiss you. Night after night after night.” 

Heat flooded through you, then, even as your heart beat against your breastbone like it could escape and fling itself directly at the man before you. But all you could manage was another off-balance giggle. You couldn’t even bring yourself to step out of his arms. It was like he’d looked inside your mind and uncovered the things you most wanted to hear from him, but of course you couldn’t take any of this too seriously. Forcing a smile, you patted his chest a few times and tilted your head sympathetically at him.

“Oh, Loki.” Hopefully he couldn’t hear the regret creeping into your words. “Tell me again when you’re sober okay?”

That’s when things shifted. He tightened one arm around your back to pull you in even closer, while simultaneously pressing a finger below your chin to keep you from being able to look away. His eyes were sharp. Gone was the fogginess that’d been there before, the woozy uncertainty. He arched an eyebrow and gave you a wry smirk. “Thor lied to me,” he said. His voice rumbled through his chest. It wasn’t hard to imagine that you could feel it in the air around you. “I haven’t had a drop of mead. I’ve barely had a drop of anything except for the glass of water a lovely woman offered me at the bar. If I am drunk at all, dear heart, it is merely from the way you feel in my arms.”

“Oh.” Oh dear. Your heart went on pounding in your chest. Maybe _you_ were too drunk. Maybe you were just dreaming all this, then. Because why on Earth would Loki be standing there holding you, gazing down at your lips? “You...love me?”

He only nodded, holding that same smirk all the while. This was a lot. It was a lot, and it was so fast, but you needed to grab hold of it, lest it fly away from you. So you nodded back and pressed even closer to him and dragged him down a little so you could slant your lips across his.

And, even among the loud music that still filled the room, the sound of his satisfied chuckle was unmistakable.


End file.
